


The Adventures of Loki and Spiderman

by Logical Vulcan (TheFinalFrontier87), TheFinalFrontier87



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Adventure, But he really should make sure someone's a threat before throwing hands with them, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Just Friendship, Loki & Peter Parker Friendship, Loki destroyed Jotunheim. Again., Loki is not having a good day, Not a slash, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Odin's not a great dude, Peter Parker is a dork, Peter is just the sweetest, a little bit, oh nooooo, peter parker is sassy, takes place after Avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21587824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFinalFrontier87/pseuds/Logical%20Vulcan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFinalFrontier87/pseuds/TheFinalFrontier87
Summary: An AU about after the events of Avengers. Loki has, unfortunately, been banished from Asgard. Peter Parker has, unfortunately, been up almost all night fighting a new Big Bad. Loki falls outside of Peter's home in Queens. They must decide: do they separate ways, or do they try to band together to fight Spiderman's new Big Bad?
Relationships: Loki & Peter Parker
Comments: 16
Kudos: 144





	1. Just Generally Having a Bad Day

Odin sat tall, regal, and haughty on his intricate golden throne. The throne room was empty, the vast room reverberating its silence back at him, and it reminded Odin of his terrible impatience. He straightened his helmet and took a deep breath. For the occasion, he was wearing his gleaming helmet and ceremonial battle armour, and in his right hand he held a long golden staff with spiraling wings like ravens. He gazed at the throne room's grand doors with his one good eye and licked his lips. His grip on his staff tightened in impatience, and he slouched his posture slightly. His left hand tapped a rhythm on the armrest of his throne.

With a soft flourish, the grand golden doors opened.

Odin's posture corrected itself instantly.

Two guards, their armour polished to a mirror shine, held a prisoner in place with several chains, which were connected to cuffs around his neck, ankles, and both wrists. The prisoner walked with a saunter, as if he were taunting Odin without even moving his face, which was staring straight ahead in an emotionless fashion.

The prisoner was brought to a stop in front of Odin's throne, and the prisoner raised his head, a ghost of a proud smile touching the sides of his mouth.

Odin felt his rage flare. His eyes narrowed.

"Loki." Odin said, the name of his surrogate son slipping off the tip of his tongue as if he had spoken the name of something nasty. It seemed to Odin that raising the young frost giant in Asguardian ways did not change his despicable nature. It seemed that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, Loki never acted like an Asguardian. It made him both sad and angry at times, but now it just made him angry. He felt his lip curl as he peered down at his son's frosty green eyes.

"Loki," he repeated. "Are you aware of what you have done?"

Loki's eyebrows shot up on his forehead, and he turned his head slightly to one side. "I have done something bad, father?"

A moment of silence passed while Odin seethed.

Loki laughed, the eerie, dry sound echoing in the vast room.

"Everywhere you go, you bring destruction with you," Odin bit out, his face burning with contempt. "Jotunheim is on fire because of your foolish actions."

"Ah." Loki pursed his lips and nodded. "Jotunheim. Oh dear, are they alright?"

Odin stood up from his throne and pointed his staff at Loki.

Loki's eyes followed his movement, the mock concern still lathered on his face.

"No, Loki, they are not fine. Thanks to your foolish actions, Jotunheim may never regain its stability or population."

Loki's foux concern dropped. He adopted a sneer and leaning forward, he said, "Father, I was under the impression—from a young age, mind you—that you would rather have all the frost giants _killed_ , and now you are saying otherwise? I thought you would be _proud_ of me."

" _Proud?!_ " Odin roared, smashing the end of his staff onto the ground, and the thunderous sound echoed through the hall. "You have done nothing to make me _proud, you imbecile._ "

" _Imbecile?_ " Loki sneered. His eyes burned hellfire green.

Odin held up his hand to silence Loki, anger behind his eyes.

"Your fate has been decided. As a price of your actions, you will be banished to Earth," Odin paused for a dramatic effect. "Indefinitely."

Before Loki could open his mouth again, Odin waved at the guards to take him back to confinement, the golden doors slipping shut behind them as they left.

But just before he left, after Odin spoke, Loki's face seemed to fall into an expression of utter despair. For that single moment, his surrogate son looked dismal and almost fearful instead of his usual mask of playful cruelty and blissful confidence. Perhaps now the proud frost giant would finally change his cruel nature and come back to Asgard humbled. If not, he would stay banished. It was that easy.

Odin reveled in the simplicity of it.

* * *

Peter Parker, knockout tired from a fight a couple of hours before, was asleep on his bed, his face bruised like an apple after a terrible earthquake. His Spiderman suit was rolled up sloppily underneath his bed, a tell-tale red sleeve peeking from the shadows. He had only been sleeping for around an hour when-

_BOOM._

Peter sat up in bed with a startled shout. He stayed silent for a moment, straining his ears to understand what woke him up.

From beyond his window, it seemed, someone was complaining, cursing, and just generally having a bad day. The sounds were muffled by his closed window, but he could still hear most of what the man was saying. Peter crept over to the window and craned his neck around to find the source of the noise.

His window overlooked a dark and stained alleyway, generally not visited at night. But upon looking far to the left, however, Peter realized that tonight was not a normal night.

Someone was in the dumpster.

As Peter watched, a tall man in an intricate bright green and gold suit rolled out of the bin, removing his ram-horned helmet to pick out a rather rotten orange peel from his hair. His long nose wrinkled in disgust and he threw the peel away, lifting his hand up towards it as it landed. The hand extended glowed white, then blue, and then the peel vanished as if it had never existed.

Peter gasped loudly. The man swung his head around, and Peter turned out of sight. He pursed his lips and evaluated his options. This man had crawled out of a dumpster and in a fit of rage, made an entire orange peel vanish. He had an elaborate costume, which Peter had begun to associate with what he privately called 'bad guys with style'. He paused, considering.

His eyes flickered towards the Spiderman suit balled up under the bed.

Loki turned his head away from the noise he heard. He put his hand against the stone bricks of the alleyway and retched. The sharp smell of orange peels and the damp smell of rotten processed cheese still clung to his nose. He wiped it with his sleeve and scowled. His costume was absolutely _ruined_. Fortunately, he had a solution to that problem.

He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Nothing of consequence seemed to have happened. Loki opened his eyes, looked back down at his smelly suit and cursed under his breath. A moment ago, he could use his powers, and then when he actually needed them, they were gone? He smiled and clapped his hands together once. This was great, just _great_. Now maybe he could go and _die_ like Odin wanted.

He stomped around the alley, kicking over a couple of trash cans, muttering to himself bitterly. What was he to do now? He had no friends in Earth. It also probably didn't help that one time he tried to take over New York and killed some people.

He turned over a trash can and sat atop it to think. Maybe he could _make_ some friends. There were plenty of people who thought like him, surely. How difficult would it be to find them? But before that he needed a place to stay before he got attacked for being alone in the dark. Do hotels take solid gold helmets? Maybe he could _find_ some money-

_WHAM._

Before he could finish his thought, something slammed into Loki and knocked him off his trash can. He looked around, surprised.

"Hey, you!" a juvenile voice came from above. Loki craned his neck up to see a figure perched on a ledge above him. "Are you having a bad day, or do you just have a really deep hatred of trash cans?" the figure asked.

Loki sighed and prepared himself to fight.


	2. Trash Cans, Knives, and Webs

Loki's hands glowed blue as he looked up, squinting in the dark to see his opponent. The young voice came again, but from a different direction this time.

"Hey man, I get that it's late and you're having a lot of fun trashing this alley, but shouldn't you be hanging out at a villian party?"

Loki scowled. He was getting pretty sick of the day he was having. He licked his dry lips and immediately regretted it; they tasted like old beef nachos.

As he was spitting and gagging, the anonymous figure dropped quietly to the ground behind him and shot some type of elastic substance at Loki's feet, locking him into place. Loki spat once more and looked behind him. The figure was a small and slim boy in a red costume that fit over his body like a second skin. It was too dark to see any more details, but from what Loki could tell, the boy was an aspiring hero in a homemade outfit. He rolled his eyes and looked at his feet, which were encased in… webbing?

"Where would villains party, anyway?" the boy asked, seemingly caught up in the assumption that Loki was a villain for him to defeat. "A villain...club? A villain… pub? I don't know."

Loki waved glowing hands over the webbing encasing his feet and, thankfully, they vanished after a moment. He turned to the boy in the suit, his hands turning blue again, but he was gone.

Then the world turned upside down.

Loki blinked and suddenly the young boy was right in his face, his mask akin to a spider's. He looked at his feet and realized that he was hanging by a thread of silk that was connected to a roof above. The superhero was also attached to a line, hanging upside down parallel to Loki. Loki raised his hands angrily and they glowed blue,

"Not so fast, Mr. Bad Guy," The boy said, fusing Loki's hands together with a quick flick of his wrists. The large white eyes on his mask narrowed. "Nice battle armour, though. Is that real gold?"

Loki slipped one of his knives into one of his bound hands and released himself. He kicked off the wall behind him and righted himself before he hit the ground. The juvenile superhero stared at him, surprised, and then just walked down the wall as if gravity didn't affect him. He got to the ground and walked over to Loki, his hands clasped comically behind his back.

"Mr. Bad Guy, I didn't know you had knives! Where are you hiding them? In your sleeve… or somewhere else?" the young superhero's voice lilted in amusement. "Also, are you aware that you smell like rotting Lunchables?"

Then he raised his hand towards Loki, obviously intending to bind him with webbing again. But Loki was a little fed up with the entire encounter. He stepped to the side to avoid the webs. He then used his illusion magic to clone himself and rushed at the costumed youth from two directions in an attempt to confuse him. The boy gasped and tried to jump to the nearest wall, but Loki grabbed his arm and pushed him against the wall, a knife against his neck.

Loki kept his voice low and even. "I have a suggestion for you, and I suggest you take it. You leave me alone, and I can leave. Do you understand?"

The large white eyes on the mask narrowed again. Loki pressed the knife a little closer to his throat and was about to repeat what he just said when the boy sprung into action. He punched Loki in the side with one of his free hands, kicked his abdomen, and then flicked webbing into his eyes.

Loki cursed and dropped his knife, which disappeared very shortly after it hit the ground. He dropped to one knee and tried to rip the webs from his eyes, but they stuck fast.

"Carbon nanotubes," Loki heard his opponent say. "You won't be able to rip that off. Now why don't you tell me what you're doing lurking around here at night?"

Loki glared in the direction of his voice. "By Balder, I just wanted to get a hotel room. A hotel room. That is all." a silence followed and Loki felt compelled to say, "I beg your pardon, but you _are_ a child fighting an Asgardian in an alleyway in the dead of night. I kicked over a trash can. You, on the other hand, kicked _me_. Several times."

"Well you held a knife to my throat! And your hands glow!"

"I didn't _hurt_ you with the knife-"

"And what are you going to do with your weird power things? People like you always have a plan to do something—like take over New York—wait a minute!" the young man's voice became angry. He walked over to Loki, who was standing by a wall, and stood uncomfortably close to him. Loki felt the boy's breath on his face.

"What are you doing?"

"I think I've seen you before!" he said. He then stepped away and began to walk down the alley, his footsteps receding. Loki's eyes furrowed as he followed the young man's footsteps, feeling around with his feet before taking a step forward. The boy's footsteps stopped, soon followed by the sound of metal ringing softly.

Loki pursed his lips. The young superhero found his helmet. And he had, in fact, tried to take over a city on Earth not that long ago. He tried not to think about it most days. It was not a highlight of his life, in fact.

"You're that maniac that attacked New York!"

Loki held up his hands in a shrug. "That was a while ago."

"It has only been six months! And you killed over eighty people! I knew it. I knew it. I knew you were a bad guy." his footsteps paced back and forth. "I'm gonna call the police. I should have done that before I came down here, actually. Maybe I should call the Avengers! No, I wouldn't want to bother them…"

As he rambled on and on, Loki tried a new method on removing the webs around his eyes. He placed his hands on his face and focused on making the webs disappear. He felt his hands warm, then tingle, and then the webbing fell from his eyes. He blinked a few times, realized that the young superhero was no longer paying much attention to him, and started to walk quietly in the opposite direction.

"Wait a minute!"

Loki grimaced and sped up his walk.

"Hey! Stop!" he felt his legs buckle as his ankles were bound together with another web. Loki growled. He was _angry_ now. It was only a slight inconvenience before, but now the young superhero was annoying him. He peeled himself off the pavement, freed his bound ankles with another knife and looked in the boy's direction.

He was hoping he could just walk to a hotel or a bench somewhere, but the young man was obviously not going to let him leave. He was hoping he wouldn't have to use teleportation, as it severely depleted his energy reserves and it was a bit conspicuous to appear from nowhere on a random street in a busy city.

But the superhero was swinging over to him with his webs, bent on capturing him to turn him into the police, and Loki didn't want to fight a child.

He dug his toes into the pavement, crossed his arms near his chest, and launched himself into the teleportation spell. Loki closed his eyes and held his breath as the forces of the spell pulled on every part of him, like tiny hands trying to pull his limbs apart. Although his eyes were closed, lights of every color flashed brightly, burning his retinas. A loud ringing like high-pitched bells pierced his ears.

The tunnel collapsed, the world lit up like a nuclear explosion, and then a busy city street materialized around him.

 _Now where's the hotels?_ Loki thought briefly before stumbling into a dark alleyway. He felt an intense pressure on the sides of his head before the world went absolutely black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Sorry for the delay in posting, but I have been busy lately. I hope you like the story so far, so if you really liked it, please let me know. Thank you again for taking time out of your day to read my writing! Best wishes!


	3. You Need Identification, Sir

Peter stopped swinging towards the villain, his mask's eyes widening. _Where'd he go?_ The momentum of his swing moved him forward, then backwards, then forwards again. He dropped to the ground and examined the area where the villain had disappeared. He walked around in a circle and then looked at the horned helmet he had examined later. He picked it up and rubbed his costumed hands across it.

_I need to find this guy before he goes Emperor Palpatine on everyone._

But he felt so, so tired, and it was a school night. He gave the alley one more look, gripped the golden helmet harder, and then swung back to his open window and collapsed on his bed almost immediately after hastily taking off his suit.

Dark images of villains swam through his dreams like swordfish in the sea.

* * *

"What do you mean, I need identification?" Loki protested. The lady at the hotel registration desk gave him a tired and exasperated look. She clicked her pen twice.

"Sir, you need some identification to rent a hotel room. Do you have a driver's license?"

Loki's eyebrows drew together. "No…" he said slowly. The lady gave him a pointed look. "I left it in my car." he finished hastily.

He turned to walk out of the hotel. _So, an item of identification called a 'driver's license' is necessary on Earth. Everyone seems to have one; it should not be difficult to acquire one._

Loki stopped a passerby, a middle-aged man in a slick suit.

"Sir," Loki asked politely, "Where can I get a driver's license?"

The man became angry seemingly without provocation. "Get out of my way, you insolent drunk!" he pushed Loki harshly to the side and hurried on without another look back.

Loki sighed hard and rocked back on his heels. He thought about hexing the rude man as he hurried away, but decided that it wasn't worth it. He still needed the identification, after all. Perhaps he had to acquire a driver's license _another_ way…

He looked around the dirty street where he was standing. Yellow and black and grey cars whizzed by each other, obnoxiously honking their horns. People milled about in nervous fervor, evidently aware of the fact that they were walking alone at night in a crime-ridden city. The air smelled of cool asphalt and liquor and cigarette smoke, and bright advertisements smiled at him from practically every building. Loki grimaced. He looked up at the sky and realized he couldn't see the stars, which bothered him greatly. In Asgard he could see them clear as crystal every night.

Loki twisted his lips and was about to go back inside the hotel and magic his way into getting a room when he heard a pained moan from a nearby alleyway. He poked his head around the corner and saw a lump of cloth on the floor. He took a step forward, confused. The lump of cloth, he soon discovered, was a man, and better yet, a _drunk_ man. Loki looked over at the man's face and was relieved to see that he was fast asleep.

Then Loki began to rummage through all his pockets.

* * *

Loki collapsed on the hotel bed, his muscles collapsing for the second time that day. He began to strip off the outer layers of his outfit, just leaving the simple black shirt and pants he wore under his elaborate costumes. Even his underclothes reeked of garbage. _No wonder that man thought I was a drunk,_ Loki thought bitterly, wrinkling his nose at his own clothing. He piled them unceremoniously in a corner and sat on the creaky bed.

It was then that Loki truly began to think about his situation. He was in a large city, didn't even know which one, had no money, his magic was unreliable, and had no one to help him through it. And he just stole some random person's wallet.

Loki rolled over and picked up the stolen wallet from the bedside table and took out the driver's license. He read over the name and yawned. Whoever this person was, he was obviously someone insignificant. Why else would someone lie asleep in such a vulnerable position? It didn't matter.

He wanted to think more about his situation, but his mind and body betrayed him and he passed out just like the drunk man outside of his hotel.

* * *

At three o'clock, his window shattered.

Loki's eyes flew open and he saw an enormous figure at the end of his bed, as towering and ferocious as the ice giants in Jotunheim. Loki stilled his tremulous limbs and sat up and turned on the lamp beside his bed.

As the lamp's flickering light revealed the features of the creature, Loki's eyes widened. _What in the world,_ he thought, _is that?_

It was _huge_. Its whole body was covered in a black ooze so thick and dark it was akin to mucus spat from the mouth of the venomous Jörmungandr. It was shaped like a muscular man, but in grotesque manner; its arms bulged like a bursting balloon and its hands were wide and shaped almost like an animal's deadly claws. It was so tall that it reached the ceiling with its oblong, ugly head. On its head, white slitted eyes were narrowed angrily. _Almost like that kid's costume,_ Loki realized with a start.

The creature opened its grotesque head to reveal a mouth with pointed teeth and a long tongue that twisted and contorted like a worm in a bird's beak. Saliva dripped down its mouth and fell with a soft _pat pat pat_ on Loki's bedsheets. Loki tried to scramble backwards as the creature reached forward with an enormous hand to grab him by the throat, but he was too late. The creature's hand closed around his throat with incredible strength, lifted him, pulled him closer until Loki was so close that he could feel the humid breath of the creature on his cheek.

"Where…" the creature grated.

Loki began to feel faint as the blood flow to his brain was cut off.

"Where is the…"

Loki fumbled with his hands to reach his boot, which he had forgotten to take off when he first slept.

"The-"

Loki's wandering hands found a knife, and he grasped it tightly in his fist.

With a battle cry, he shoved it as hard as he was physically able into the creature's chest.

The creature dropped Loki, who began gasping for air, and examined the knife in its chest. It blinked once and removed it as if it were only a bee sting. The knife clattered to the floor and vanished.

Its blank white eyes landed back on Loki.

Loki pursed his lips and sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fellow Marvel-lovers. Thank you for taking time to read my fan fiction. I will be continuing my story soon, but I have a lot to work on, so I cannot confirm any specific date. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my story, and if you did, let me know!


	4. No Rest for the Wicked

Loki tripped over his reeking clothes that were thrown near the wall as he backed up a few steps, smiling cockily despite panicking inside. He took a quick look at the door, but the metal latch was locked tight, and opening it would simply take too much time.  
He groaned. Must he be so precautious?  
A great, large hand whipped him around and slammed him against the door a couple yards away. He locked eyes with the ugly creature again. It had cornered him, and it knew it, but Loki wasn’t about to let that get to him. It was no longer holding him around the neck, but it did lean forward so its face was so close to Loki’s that its tongue was almost touching his skin. Loki could feel the heat wafting from its large body. He bit his tongue to combat his impulse to flinch away. Behind his back, he tried to conjure a spell, but it kept dispelling in his hands. He turned his eyes up defiantly to make direct eye contact; the creature’s eyes were large and milky and unflinching.  
It spoke again. “Where... is the wallet?!” It stopped for a moment and cocked its head to the side, as if listening intently to something. Loki blinked. It continued, “Wallet. Give it. Now.”  
Loki was even more confused. The wallet? The one he had taken from the drunk man in the alleyway? He pursed his lips to keep from gagging from the smell of the creature and drew his eyebrows together, over-exaggerating his best ‘puzzled’ face. The creature waited impatiently.  
“Your wallet? I do not understand. Would you mind enlightening me as to what you are referring to? A large intelligent brute such as yourself should not have a problem working your sentence about for simple clarification.”  
The creature growled in annoyance but backed off from Loki. It stopped, turned its head to the side and stared at the adjacent wall blankly, its eyes squinting and widening periodically. Loki watched it for a few seconds, eyebrows raised, before turning to the door. He began to quietly try to escape the hotel room again. He was having difficulties, though. He had been trying to ignore it before, but his legs were about to give out from exhaustion and his vision was beginning to look blurry as his eyes focused and unfocused. The metal clasp at the door stuck fast and rattled about loudly. Loki growled, kicked the door, and turned back to the creature, but it had disappeared.  
In its place was a very haggard-looking man.  
“Wha-”  
“Hey man, if you’d please tell me where you put my wallet, I won’t call the police and you can just… go about your business.”  
Loki blinked and didn’t move.  
The man, who looked a lot like the drunk man from the alley, sighed heavily and extended his arm. Loki watched as the arm extended turned into the oily black substance the creature was made of, twisting and writhing like snakes. When his eyes met Loki’s, they were black as the night and soulless.  
“Now,” the man said evenly, his voice as deep and gravelly as the creature from before. “Where is my wallet?”  
Loki cleared his throat, straightened up, and started to walk toward the bedside table where the wallet rested. Before he got there, however, the world tilted on its side and his vision grew dark.  
He realized faintly that he was passing out, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it, so he gave in to the darkness.

* * *

When Loki came to, he noticed he had been moved from the doorway to beside the bed, but was still on the ground. A blanket was draped haphazardly across his body. He sat up and groaned; his head hurt like a trillion bolts of electricity ran through the neurons. Using the wall, he stood up on weak legs. He turned towards the window and gave a shout of surprise.  
The man was still there.  
He was sleeping quietly on the hotel bed, so quiet he could have been dead, save for his moving chest. He awoke to Loki’s shout, however. He sat up, squinted at Loki in confusion and stuck out his grubby hand.  
“Hey. Name’s Eddie Brock.”  
Loki hesitantly accepted the handshake. “I am Loki.” Of Asgard.  
Brock nodded his head, evidently not recognising his name. He got out of the hotel bed and stood up. He looked around for a minute, his brow crinkling.  
“Loki, where am I?”  
Loki’s eyebrows raised. He didn’t remember? Was he actually drunk last night?  
“We are in a hotel.” Loki said simply, internally wincing about how stupid his statement sounded.  
Eddie Brock raised his eyebrows at him but said nothing. He walked past Loki to the bedside table, took his wallet, and backed up. His eyes flicked up to Loki’s.  
“Did you take my wallet?”  
“I may have taken your wallet, but that pales in comparison to your wrongdoings. I distinctly remember you as a large creature threatening me last night.”  
Brock pursed his lips. “So you’ve met Venom,” he trailed off and grimaced, apparently unsure how to continue. “I will be honest with you. I remember nothing from last night.  
“Apparently mixing cough medicine and cheap vodka while bonded with a symbiote is a bad idea that I will not be trying again. I have one hell of a headache, man. So if you’ll forgive me for my… break in…” He gestured at the shattered window. “I’ll forgive you for the wallet.”  
Loki agreed, nodding silently. Brock nodded as well, blowing air out his cheeks and rubbing his hands on his trousers.  
“Do…do you mind if I sit here for a minute? I need to call my manager. He might know where I am staying.”  
“Very well. However, if you do not object to me asking, what is your job?”  
Eddie pulled out his phone and began to scroll through the contacts. “I’m a reporter. You know, the Eddie Brock Show? ‘Eddie Brock reporting from the streets of New York,’” he said in a lower, more authoritative tone. He raised his eyebrows at Loki as if his impression was supposed to have a reaction from him. When Loki looked at him blankly, he sighed. “There’s a new villain in New York, you know. I heard about it from a contact and I’ve come to investigate. I haven’t had much luck over the past few days, though. I’m always late, and all I have to report on are police crime scenes.”  
Loki perked up. “I have not heard of a new villain. Would you mind being a bit more descriptive?”  
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until I can get a report!” Eddie laughed. He put a finger to his lips to tell Loki to be quiet while he called his manager.  
Loki mused and let Brock’s voice fade. A new villain. This could be exactly what I need to go home. I have magic, Eddie has… Venom, a huge creature that could rival the Hulk. With a new villain conveniently right here, I should have no problem ‘doing the right thing’ and saving the people of- Loki realized he had no idea what city he was in. Of… this place, and I can go back to Asgard. He stopped for a moment and considered. Back to Asgard? Back where? There is nothing in Asgard I love. An image of Frigga flashed unbidden into his mind and he winced, urging her to disappear. Maybe I can get my full powers back. I would like to give myself some clothing that didn’t stink of rot and cheese.  
His eyes looked so bloodshot he looked like a drug addict, his knees shook whenever he stood for longer than a minute at a time, and his only pair of clothing reeked of rotting bananas. His mind was clear enough to work out a plan, however.  
As Brock persuaded his manager not to fire him, Loki stared off into space, his mind so focused and trance-like that he didn’t even notice when Eddie slipped out of the hotel’s broken window and into the morning-tinted city.


	5. Everyone Sleeps in this Morning

It was three o'clock in the afternoon when Loki snapped awake. His head ached like he fell down several flights of stairs, and his eyes felt strangely glued together. He got out of the bed, stretched, rubbed his eyes, and looked around the room.

He stopped and groaned. _Where is Brock?_ He looked around the room, but it was useless. The journalist was gone, and along with him, Loki's entire plan. Biting his lip, he looked about more, acknowledged the missing wallet, the broken window, and his stinking overclothes.

He had a lot to do before he could go out again.

* * *

Peter Parker winced and opened his eyes. He immediately wished he hadn't. Blood pounded in his ears and his head roared with pain.

"Peter, this is why we _don't_ stay up until two in the morning. You know it gives you headaches!" he berated himself.

Ignoring his headache, he swept his legs out of bed, stood up, and realized he was still in his homemade spider suit. His eyes went wide and he tripped over a dirty shirt on his way to his closet. As fast as he could, he got out a wrinkled shirt and jeans, wiggled out of his suit, and put new clothes on.

Two minutes later he opened his door, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Aunt May stood in front of him, her hand raised as if she were about to knock. Her mouth spread to a straight line.

"Peter, you are about to be late! Did you not hear me call you ten minutes ago?"

Peter's face blanched as he checked his phone for the time. Aunt May stood with her hands on her hips.

"Thanks Aunt May," he kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you later!"

He frantically cursed in his mind as he shoved bread into his back pocket and ran out the door of his apartment. He ran down the hall and down the stairs to see his bus pulling away.

 _No, no, no, no, no!_ Peter ran as fast as he could after the yellow vehicle's retreating back, but he did not gain on it. He hung his head and groaned; he was absolutely going to be late.

He checked his phone again, ate the bread out of his back pocket, and slowly began to walk to school.

* * *

Loki ran a hand through his wet hair and wished he could use his magic properly. Using a human shower was a strange experience he wasn't sure he wanted to repeat. Thankfully, he was able to 'clean' his clothes with a small spell. The outer shell of his costume was a different story. During the night it had disappeared, as all his created items did when they were absent from him for a certain amount of time. The black underclothes would do, however. Loki looked about the room and decided it was a good time to leave.

He stepped through the broken window, careful not to scratch himself. He looked down and frowned. He was on the third floor of the building. He was an Asgardian, however, and was not as susceptible to breaking his legs as a human was.

Loki dropped to the ground and walked around the building and into the crowded street as if nothing had happened. _Now, if I were Eddie Brock, where would I be?_ He thought. After walking for a few minutes and looking at every street and corner, something hit his foot. He picked it up and realized that it was a newspaper.

And the story in the headlines brought a smile on his face.

* * *

Eddie Brock grumbled as he woke up. His head hurt like he had cracked it on the pavement. It was noon. Venom welcomed him, saying he was almost certain Brock was dead for how long he was asleep.

"Oh shut up, you big baby," Brock rolled over and got out of the bed. He remembered what had happened the night before, and the thought of it made him rub his eyes.

"This is your last chance, Eddie. I need a story. You have a week. Your camera man is at the address I gave you whenever you need him. One week, Eddie. Then you're out of a job."

The words echoed in Eddie's ears. He grabbed his wallet, his phone, and his coat and went into the bathroom. He ran his hands under the sink to get them wet and rinsed his face and his hair. After drying his face with a clean towel, he looked at his reflection and grimaced. He looked like he was hungover, because he was, but there was no changing that.

He exited his hotel room without another thought.

As he exited the hotel and entered the busy streets of New York, he thought about what he needed to do. The day before had not been… the best of days, to put it lightly, but it was a new day, and there was a new thief in town. The best way to catch a thief, Brock knew, was to understand the thief, to know where they may rob next. So, the first thing to learn about a master thief is to go to one of the places they robbed and investigate. Interestingly enough, the place robbed was not a bank, but an art museum.

And thanks to his employer, Eddie had some access to important information around the crime scene. The night before he had 'visited' the crime scene, via Venom, but that wasn't technically legal, and he had gotten almost no data from the trip as he was extremely drunk and it was wreaking havoc on Venom's cognitive abilities.

The museum was closed to the public. Its windows were dark in the lobby and its entrance was deserted except for a handful of police officers. He went up to them and talked with them for a few minutes, telling them he was a reporter and had access from his employer. He was having some difficulty, however. They seemed to be concerned with a certain 'dark monster' that had broken in the night before.

"C'mon guys, you can't let me in? Not even for a few minutes?"

The police officers shook their heads.

"The museum is restricted to all civilians. I'm sorry, but you've got to go."

 _I don't like that man. If he's annoying does he count as a 'bad guy'?_ Venom quipped unhelpfully. Eddie ignored him.

With a puff of his cheeks and a quick glance at the museum, he walked back on to the sidewalk and began to take the long walk back to his hotel.

 _It's not too late to take his head off_ , Venom reminded him.

"We are _not_ eating that police officer." Brock hissed between his teeth.

Venom grumbled his displeasure, but the symbiote's comical anger distracted Eddie from his frustration and brought a small smile to his lips.

A block away from the museum, a hand placed itself on Eddie's shoulder. When he turned to look, a young woman faced him. Her eyes met his for a moment, and while they were blank, he got the uncanny feeling that she was very frightened. Her eyes dropped and she shoved a piece of paper into Brock's hand, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Eddie moved to the side to get out of people's way and looked at the paper. It was a note. Written simply on the paper was the woman's phone number and the words: _I was at the museum when it happened. I can tell you everything_.


	6. A Museum and an Art Thief

The bell rang for the end of the day and Peter Parker stomped out of the school, a warning slip in his hand. One more late arrival and he would have detention. Again. He scowled loudly as someone snickered beside him.

"A warning slip? Has someone been naughty?" his friend grinned. When Peter glared at him, he feigned pouting before a smile sneaked itself back onto his pointed face.

"I have to stop missing my bus, Harry."

"No kidding. _'This is the fourth time this year that you have been tardy. You know the rules. You can't be late anymore without getting detention,_ '" Harry recited with an exaggerated wave of his hands, mimicking their strict mathematics teacher.

Peter shook his head and smiled. "I've got to get home, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure thing, _juvenile delinquent_ ," Harry paused and then added seriously, "And get some sleep. You look like you got hit by a train."

* * *

The stormy glower on Peter's face was accompanied by slumped shoulders and dark bags under his eyes. He needed sleep, time to do his work, and time to think. The school bus' windows rattled as it traveled over an uneven section of road. His mind began to drift.

All throughout the day, he drifted from classroom to classroom, his mind disconnected from reality, thinking about one thing: the art thief. As he thought of the thief again, the memory of earlier that night broke into his consciousness.

_The buzz of police radio chatter played in the background at seven at night. Next to Peter was a notebook, chemistry equations scribbled across it in a slightly unruly handwriting. He tapped his foot impatiently on the leg of his chair and closed the notebook. He groaned, rubbed his eyes, and planted his face on the desk in front of him. The police chatter continued to play, and as Peter really focused on it, his eyes widened. "We have a 10-30. I repeat, we have a 10-30 at the Met. We require backup."_

Peter shook his head and tried to clear his mind. If he was going to find this thief that so easily evaded him the night before, he was going to have to be clever.

But even before that, he had some chemistry homework he should finish before he failed the class.

* * *

Loki rolled up the dirty newspaper and tucked it underneath his arm. He turned into a food plaza and sat down at one of the empty tables and opened up the newspaper. The headline that he was so fixated on earlier: _Metropolitan Museum of Art Vandalized After Costly Robbery_. Loki read through the rest of the article. It went on to explain that after the museum was robbed of an old art piece worth a thousand dollars, something large and horrible-looking trashed the place. It entered through the doors at the entrance and entered the second floor, miraculously only damaging the tiled floors. On the second floor, however, police were astonished to see the creature tearing at their equipment at the crime scene. After they began firing at the creature, it escaped through a large window and disappeared into the city.

_If Eddie Brock is anywhere, he'll be at that museum._

After politely asking a young woman where the 'Metropolitan Museum' was, he went on his way. _You're quite messy, Eddie Brock. I would be inclined to believe that I can do the same thing you tried last night, but I_ won't _be the headline in tomorrow's news._

* * *

Loki slinked into the shadows, the spell around his skin wavering his figure into a nebulous shape, invisible to anyone not looking directly at him. The entrance of the museum seemed untouched, so he moved beyond it and studied a map of the premises for a moment before heading upstairs. That was where the traveling painting exhibit was stationed that was mentioned in the papers.

After aimlessly wandering for a while and wondering how the people on Midgard managed to navigate through the endless museum, he came up on the crime scene. Unlike the rest of the museum, it was absolutely trashed. A window on one side of the room was shattered, presumably where Venom had broken in the night before. Bits of plaster and bricks were littered all around the floor from deep gouges in the ceiling and walls.

Loki slinked back into a corner, relying on his spell to avoid detection from the police at the crime scene. Three police officers and two men with black suits stood around the scene and put objects from the scene in clear plastic bags. He let his eyes wander and examined the walls. A few paintings had been torn off of their places on the wall and a few were completely ruined, which was a bit saddening for Loki, as he appreciated a good piece of artistry. But there was a place on the wall completely devoid of anything. There was no damage to the hangers there, so nothing to suggest it was ripped off. It seemed that whoever took that specific painting did so meticulously and carefully. That must have been the only thing the thief stole.

There was a plaque still intact underneath where the painting used to be, but Loki was a bit too far away to read its writing. He squinted and inched closer to it, but his boots scraped against the plaster covering the ground. A few investigators looked in his direction but soon looked away, their eyes drawn away from his corner.

_I need to read that plaque._

He waited minutes, and then half an hour for the investigators to pack up and leave a single guard to protect the scene. _Really quite a stupid move. I would have had at least three._

With the guard looking out the room in the hallway, Loki carefully stepped over the plaster and bricks on the ground and squinted at the writing on the plaque.

_The Manipulator_ by _Charlie Verantica,_ the plaque read in machine-precision letters.

Loki had to quickly retreat into the shadows when he heard the guard coming back his way, but he kept the name of the painting and its artist in his mind's eye, mulling it over. He wondered why, of all the paintings and art in the Metropolitan Museum, the thief would choose to steal _this_ particular painting. It struck him as odd, and as he was leaving the building, he made a mental note to try and investigate it.

He made sure to over exaggerate his steps and smirk every time he stepped over debris on the ground as he quietly left.

It only occurred to him after he left the museum that he didn't find Eddie Brock at the scene. He had thought before that based on Brock's phone conversation that he would be desperate for information and would be at the crime scene, but he seemed to be mistaken. Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. Things always had to get complicated. He may have had more information in his hands, but he still didn't have what he came for. And truthfully, he was out of ideas on how to find Eddie Brock.

Maybe he would just get a sandwich nearby or buy some new clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. I really appreciate every single one of my views, kudos, and comments. It really means a lot to me. Also, I am sorry I haven't been updating my story often. I have had a bad writing block that I have just been able to break. Hopefully this means more writing to come! Thank you all so much!


	7. An Interview With a Bartender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it been six months? yes. Am I done with this fanfic? no. I'm not. I apologize for my lack of updating, but I'll try to keep going as I have recently gotten more motivation to write. thank you all so much for your support and for reading and I hope you enjoy this new installment!

While Peter sludged through another boring day at school, Eddie Brock filed his way through the crowds, his eyes searching for the lady that slipped him the piece of paper. But the crowds blended together in streaks of color and not even Venom’s heightened senses could find her.

* * *

Brock sat on the bed of his new hotel bed, the scrap of paper in his hand. He bit his lip as he considered whether or not calling the number would result in him getting scammed. On the other hand, he needed a break in this case or his job was as good as gone.   
He shrugged and pulled out his phone from his back pocket and punched the number in and waited anxiously as the phone rang. He could feel Venom hum nervously in his mind as well. The third ring was cut short as someone on the other end picked up.   
“Hello?” Eddie asked, making his voice as steady as he could.   
“Please tell me who you are,” came a quiet and tart reply.   
“I am Eddie Brock, reporter in New York,” _apparently also an investigator now,_ Eddie added, rolling his eyes. The soft voice on the other end, not being able to see his sarcastic eye roll, sighed in relief.   
“Thank God. My name is Laura Panell and I have some information that you might want about the robbing at the museum.”  
After waiting a few seconds Brock encouraged her to continue.   
“I work in a bar, you see, near the Met. People come there all the time to eat and drink and… talk. I’m a bartender and I overhear plenty of secrets. Most of them are petty secrets. Men cheating on their wives. Tax fraud. Where to find marijuiana dealers. Nothing too out of the ordinary except for last night,” she paused and took a deep breath. “Last night I overheard something particularly disturbing. There was a man on the end of the table nursing a single glass of vodka for at least an hour before another man arrived who I assumed was his friend. They sat next to each other and the man’s demeanor completely changed. He and his friend were loud and drank heavily throughout the night. It was after many drinks they began to boast. Now I don’t remember everything they said since loud customers aren’t exactly uncommon, but I do remember them proudly talking about breaking into the Met and stealing a beautiful painting.” she stopped again to think. “That’s really all I can remember but I was worried about calling the police or contacting a news source with a traceable number. I recognised you from the Eddie Brock show and thought you might be interested.”   
“Can you give me a description of those men?” Brock asked, frantically searching the hotel for a pen and notepad. She gave a brief and mostly unhelpful description, which Eddie quickly jotted down on his notepad. Venom buzzed for a second as if something caught his attention, but then he quieted down.   
Eddie Brock thanked the woman and ended the call, as it seemed that she was getting nervous for the interview to be over. He had an eyewitness testimony and two people to find. That was a start, at least.   
Venom vibrated again and spoke up. _Those men. I’ve seen them before._  
Brock rubbed his eyes, “Oh yeah?”   
_Oh yeah._ Venom confirmed. _The night we attacked the museum._

* * *


	8. Guy-Who-Landed-In-My-Dumpster

* * *

Loki ran out of the clothing store with a bag full of clothes in both hands. He sprinted as fast as he could down the street and into a large crowd as a high pitched alarm went off behind him and the security officers near the door looked wildly around the crowd he disappeared into, but thanks to his quick invisibility spell, he blended into the crowd perfectly.  


* * *

He felt the best in days when he finally got back to the hotel room to try on his clothes. They all fit very well, and when he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror he nodded approvingly. A dark button up shirt, black skinny jeans, small reflective sunglasses and a long trench coat looked pretty good on him. And he no longer smelled like garbage, so that was a plus. He dropped the rest of the clothes on the floor and sighed. _What in Asgard am I supposed to do now?_  
Just about then, when the sun was slanting through his window, he heard a knock.  
He turned his head to glare out the door, but when the knock came again he realized that it wasn’t coming there.  
It was coming from the window.  
_Good riddance it was about time that Eddie Brock returned._ Loki thought while striding towards the window. Without looking outside he opened up the window. Before he could say anything, however-  
A flash of red streaked through the open window and when Loki whipped around, the kid in the homemade suit was standing there, breathing heavily.  
“End of the line, guy-who-landed-in-my-dumpster!” the kid declared, pointing his finger at Loki. He dropped into a stance and pressed a button on his palm of his fingerless gloves while having two fingers stretched out towards Loki, who rolled his eyes. When nothing happened, the boy stood up from the stance and poked the button again and again. “Hold up a moment I’m having technical difficulties,” he said and removed a device from his wrist. He looked at it for a moment and then hit it on the wall a few times. Loki waited and examined his fingernails as the costumed boy fixed his little contraption for about five minutes.  
“AHA!” he clasped the device to his wrist again and pressed the button. A stream of webbing shot from it and fell to the floor. Loki stared at it and then looked back at the kid. “Now I’m ready! Do you wanna go first or should I?”  
Loki shook his head. “Listen child, I am not here to destroy the city. I am here temporarily as I settle something. Soon I will be out of your sight and mind.”  
The kid cocked his head. “Why are you here then?”  
“That is none of your concern.”  
“I think that since you’re a person that killed eighty people in this same city only six months ago it’s my concern. I am the protector of the city!”  
Loki raised his eyebrows and smirked at the kid’s makeshift outfit. “You’re the protector of New York City?”  
“Uh well I mean I’m at least the protector of Queens,” The kid looked at the floor and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, you know?”  
“Ah Spiderman, is it? Well Spiderman, it was kind of you to stop by but I obviously don’t pose a threat to you or… Queens, so if you would leave I would appreciate it.”  
‘Spiderman’ didn’t move but stood his ground and crossed his arms and the eyes on his mask narrowed. “I think that the Avengers should know that you’re back.”  
Loki’s mind flashed to the last time that he encountered the Avengers and especially the Hulk. Sometimes he swore he could still feel the bruising for the beating he took.  
He thought quickly.  
“Spiderman,” he said. “What if we formed an alliance?”  
“An alliance?”  
Loki smiled and turned to face the superhero completely. “You have heard about the painting that was stolen from the Metropolitan Museum, correct?”  
“Yes, but how did you know about that-”  
“No matter,” Loki cut Spiderman off. “I want to catch him and so do you. No offense to you but I do not think you will be able take the culprit on alone. I’m suggesting that we work together.”

* * *


End file.
